


Liquor

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-03
Updated: 2007-07-03
Packaged: 2019-01-19 14:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: A dirty glass was placed in front of him; the amber liquid inside almost touched the brim. Remus eyed it warily, but not for long. He seized up the glass and drained the entire thing in one swig.





	Liquor

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

_Drip, drip, drip._

Rain had fallen recently and puddles scattered the streets. Dripping water from the rooves fell into the puddles with a small _plunk_ sound. Remus Lupin walked swiftly down the side-street. It was a sketchy place, but that is exactly what he was looking for. The seclusion and quiet was welcome at this moment. It was chilly, typical for October nights in London. Remus tightened his coat around his body and his breath could be seen. He spotted a pub a few feet away from where he was and decided to go in, dodging puddles here and there. 

The bar was dingy; bar hounds hung off the counter, drinks glued to their hands. The entire place smelled overwhelmingly of strong liquor and old vomit. The lighting was low and Remus could barely make out the faces of the people in the bar, but he knew that they were nowhere near the warm, friendly crowd of the Three Broomsticks or the Leaky Cauldron. They all kept to themselves, some grumbling into their glasses or making the occasional mumbled comment to the bartender or a fellow drunk. It was the common, seedy Muggle pub. Perfect, Remus thought as he sat on a stool at the bar, removing his coat.

The bartender ambled over to Remus. He was a older man, late fifties perhaps, with wispy gray hairs made into a comb-over to hide a rather noticeable bald spot on the top of his head. He looked Remus over with his tired eyes before asking in a gruff voice, "What would you like?"

"Oh, yes. Well...your strongest whiskey, please," said Remus in response. The bartender scuttled away and began examining the dusty bottles at the other end of the bar. Remus pressed his palms into his eyes, sighing deeply. It had been a very rough, rough couple of weeks. The wizarding world was in chaos. Since the death of Dumbledore, everyone had been in a state of panic. Disappearances occurred left and right. The obituaries were filled with familiar names daily. No one left their homes; not that it mattered anyway. The Death Eaters still got to them. One by one, people were being picked off in Remus's life. First, of course, were the people of the First War. Lily, James, Dorcas, all the members of the original Order of the Phoenix that were lost, each affected Remus greatly. He was very different after coming out of that First War. Then, of course, was Sirius Black, one of his best friends growing up. As he held Harry back from diving into the veil after Sirius, he felt that same icy feeling he got whenever someone died. Then, Emmeline Vance and Amelia Bones both died over the summer after Sirius's death, and Remus felt as though he was back in the old days during the First War.

He was sent to do work with other werewolves and was torn away from the news, but just knew that more people were dying and disappearing. Then, came the biggest shock of all: Dumbledore's death. It hadn't really sunk in until at the funeral, as he clutched Tonks's hand, his face stark white. Dumbledore's death sickened him beyond all believe. He could barely eat, barely sleep, and didn't return to normal for more than a month.

"Your drink, sir." A dirty glass was placed in front of him; the amber liquid inside almost touched the brim. Remus eyed it warily, but not for long. He seized up the glass and drained the entire thing in one swig. 

The alcohol burned as it went down.

Eyes tearing, he asked for the glassed to be refilled. The bartender willingly obliged and tipped more liquor into his glass. He sipped it this time, not particularly liking the feeling of his throat on fire. He put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Tonks would be getting up in a few hours and would be looking for him. He didn't want to return to the concerned looks she shot him from time to time, the news of another death, more work. He was tired and worried. Harry had gone off in search of...something by himself. He left a simple letter in Remus's possession that stated that he was on a mission to finally destroy Voldemort and he was going to do it without help. This scared the living daylights out of him; what would he do if Harry turned up injured, battered, or, worse, dead. He wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt. Lily and James trusted him, and he was the one who let their only child go off on what only could be a disastrous journey.

Glass refilled again and again and again. His thoughts became more depressing and morbid. What would happen if the Order and all that was good didn't succeed this time? Would the entire world be under the reign of Voldemort? Would there be mass genocide of muggles and Muggleborns? Would Harry make it out alive? Would Molly, Arthur, and their family make it out alive? Would Tonks make it out alive? Would _he_ make it out alive?

He became numb to the burning feeling that happened in his throat and began gulping glass upon glass of the whiskey. He became more and more unaware of what was going on around him as he swallowed more and more of that pretty amber liquid. 

He began to think of the fact that the anniversary of Lily and James's death was coming up soon and how it was partially his fault that Peter was still on the run, the coward. How many things Remus would like to do to Peter. He, Remus, was not the vengeful type, but what Peter had done had made him just...full of hatred. He had ruined so many people's lives by taking away Lily and James. 

A voice punctured his murderous thoughts of Pettigrew. "Sir, you need to leave. It's closing time." Remus raised a blurry eye to the bartender and glanced out the window. The sky was slightly lighter than it had been when he arrived which was probably hours before. He slowly got off the stool, made sure he could stand straight, paid the bartender, and shuffled out of the bar.

He put his coat back on as he walked out of the bar. There were hints of pink and purple in the sky, telling Remus that he'd been at that bar a bit too long. Like, four hours too long. He tried to look at the pocket watch, but all the numbers were a blur. He decided he was beyond enebriated and definitely couldn't Apparate. So, he began walking back up the side-street, not caring to walk into the puddles.

 


End file.
